Robert turned toward the source of the voice and saw a tall, broad-shouldered young man calmly bowing before him with neither fear nor arrogance in his bearing.
"What a fine young wolf of the North!"
Robert praised inwardly, though outwardly his wine-flushed face still carried the haze of drunkenness.
"So you are Garon?"
"Indeed, Your Grace. Galon Glover, Lord of Deepwood Motte, awaits your command."
Garon answered steadily while quietly observing the reactions throughout the hall.
Ned Stark, standing beside Robert, looked deeply troubled.
Across the two long tables, Sansa's eyes first lit up with joy when she saw Garon step forward, only for panic to quickly appear upon her face monts later.
Catelyn wore a faint smile, seemingly convinced the situation had already been decided.
Theon Greyjoy's expression was even more smug as he ignored Robb's dark glare beside him.
Joffrey looked at Garon with naked disdain, his eyes filled with contempt.
Only Queen Cersei, seated upon the high platform, revealed the slightest flicker of admiration toward the composed young lord who stood unshaken before the King.
Jai Lannister imdiately noticed his sister's reaction and inexplicably felt a trace of irritation.
"I rember the Lord of Deepwood Motte being Galbart Glover."
"How did it beco you?"
Robert did not imdiately reject Garon. Instead, he frowned slightly in confusion.
At the sa ti, Garon's eyes swept briefly toward the hall entrance. Seeing that Roger's figure had already disappeared, he calmly answered:
"Your Grace, nine years ago, my father answered your summons and Lord Ned's call to war, leading the n of Deepwood Motte against the rebel Balon Greyjoy."
As he spoke, his gaze shifted aningfully toward Theon Greyjoy, whose expression instantly stiffened.
"My father was gravely wounded while assaulting Pyke during the rebellion."
"He remained bedridden for many years afterward before finally returning to the old gods half a year ago."
The sorrowful weight within Garon's voice imdiately stirred the mories of many Northern lords present.
Most of them had fought during the Greyjoy Rebellion.
Even Robert could not help but recall those bloody days.
The war had been fierce beyond compare.
The Ironborn had relied upon the natural defenses of the Iron Islands and resisted stubbornly. If the Northern bannern had not charged forward without fear of death, Pyke would never have fallen so quickly.
Thinking back upon those events, Robert slowly lowered his wine cup and sighed.
"Galbart Glover was a brave and loyal man. I rember him clearly."
"If he hadn't led his n to hold back the Ironborn counterattack during the assault upon Pyke, victory would not have co so easily."
"It is a pity that such a man has already passed away."
As Robert spoke, the expressions of many nobles softened toward Garon.
The atmosphere within the hall also eased considerably.
"To serve Your Grace and Lord Stark is only the duty of a bannerman."
Garon calmly accepted the goodwill before continuing neither humbly nor arrogantly.
"Before my father passed away, he worried deeply over my marriage."
"Thus, he took the liberty of proposing an alliance with House Stark."
"Lord Ned, out of sympathy for his old companion-in-arms, summoned to Winterfell three days ago to discuss the matter."
"Although the betrothal had not yet been formally announced, the original intention was for both Your Grace and the old gods to witness it personally."
With only a few sentences, Garon neatly explained the entire background behind the proposed engagent.
Ned also spoke at that mont in confirmation, clearly hoping Robert would reconsider his earlier declaration.
Unfortunately, Robert imdiately developed a headache upon hearing it.
If this conversation had taken place privately between himself and Ned, he could easily have pretended nothing happened.
But now the entire Great Hall had heard his proclamation.
If the King withdrew his words before all these nobles, it would damage royal authority itself.
Robert Baratheon would never willingly tolerate such humiliation.
At that mont, Jai Lannister lazily added fuel to the fire.
"In the end, there is still no formal betrothal between House Stark and House Glover."
"What? You expect the King to yield to you?"
"The audacity of it."
Joffrey had already disliked Garon from the very beginning. Seeing the opportunity, he imdiately shouted:
"A wolf hiding in the Wolfswood dares challenge the King's will?"
"Hound!"
"Hound, seize him for !"
Sandor Clegane pushed through the crowd, seemingly preparing to obey Joffrey's command.
Ned Stark instantly frowned and glanced toward Jory Cassel.
Jory understood imdiately and stepped forward to block Sandor's path.
At the sa ti, Theon Greyjoy sensed another opportunity.
Initially, he had grown uneasy when the hall reacted favorably to Garon's ntion of the Greyjoy Rebellion.
But now, with both Jai and Joffrey targeting Garon, Theon believed the situation had turned completely against him.
Thus, he eagerly added:
"That's right!"
"There is no true betrothal yet."
"Lady Sansa is still free to marry."
"Prince Joffrey still has every right to wed her, and surely the gods themselves would bless such a union!"
Unfortunately for Theon, his words imdiately earned contempt from nearly everyone present.
Joffrey glared coldly at him.
"Shut your mouth, squid."
"Who gave you permission to speak?"
At the sa ti, Robb Stark rose to his feet and coldly warned:
"Theon, be quiet."
Theon's body stiffened.
Instinctively, he looked toward Catelyn for support, only to discover that even she wore an ugly expression.
Only then did he realize he had offended nearly everyone present.
For a mont, he no longer dared speak.
Garon rely sneered inwardly.
"Idiot."
Theon truly did not understand Joffrey's personality at all.
Joffrey was arrogant to the bone.
By saying the prince "still had the right," Theon had indirectly implied that even the heir to the Iron Throne still needed Ned Stark's permission.
How could soone like Joffrey tolerate such wording?
"Still…"
"The fool has accidentally given an opening."
A sudden thought flashed through Garon's mind.
He stepped forward once more and broke the silence within the hall.
"Ser Jai speaks correctly."
"How could House Glover possibly force the King to yield?"
Jai narrowed his eyes slightly.
"So you intend to surrender?"
At those words, Sansa's expression instantly dimd, and she lowered her head in despair.
Yet Garon imdiately continued:
"Of course not."
If he backed down now, House Glover would beco a complete laughingstock throughout the North.
Even House Stark's honor would suffer alongside it.
From that mont onward, Garon would no longer have any standing among the Northern nobility.
"How interesting…"
Jai frowned slightly, unable to determine Garon's intentions.
A faint smile appeared upon Garon's face.
His red eyes seed to burn like fire beneath the torchlight as his passionate voice rang throughout the Great Hall.
"Since both Prince Joffrey and I wish to seek Lady Sansa's hand…"
"And since the wishes of Your Grace and Lord Stark now conflict…"
"Then let the gods themselves decide Lady Sansa's future husband!"
Ignoring the stunned expressions around him, Garon's voice continued to echo powerfully through the hall.
"Your Grace!"
He first looked directly at Robert before turning sharply toward Ned Stark.
"My Lord!"
Once both n's attention fixed fully upon him, Garon suddenly revealed a resolute expression.
Then, before the entirety of Winterfell's gathered nobility, he declared loudly and clearly:
"I demand a trial by combat!"
Boom!
The Great Hall instantly erupted into chaos.
Everyone stared at Garon in utter disbelief.
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